This bargain box set is a tribute to Angela Gheorghiu in her fiftieth year to mark the twenty-five year anniversary of her debut.

In his admiring review of this bargain box set, my MusicWeb International colleague Michael Cookson hails Angela Gheorghiu as “the greatest soprano of her generation”. I have no quarrel with the legitimacy of that assertion except to observe that she might be accorded that accolade jointly with Renée Fleming. Both sopranos have a claim to being the leading prime donne of the last quarter century: both are singers of considerable personal allure and the ability to act convincingly; both have lovely and instantly recognisable voices; both have repertoires of admirable breadth to display their versatility. Each of them can fill any international opera house with an adoring public which knows a good thing when it hears it. I say this especially in these days of increasing dearth of what I would call the old-fashioned style of diva who can flood a hall with sound as opposed to the slimmed-down soprano voices of the period school.

I have heard both singers live a good few times and can attest to the magnetism of their stage presence and the carrying power of their voices. I have no desire to pit one against the other in terms of artistry but am merely grateful that we have had two such singers able to do justice to the greatest and most demanding operatic roles.

Apart from its intrinsic beauty, Gheorghiu’s voice has a peculiarly affecting and plangent timbre coupled with a special ability shared with Callas, which is to apply and control portamento to heart-rending effect. She has frequently been compared with Callas and has unwisely encouraged that comparison with her “Homage to Callas” album issued in 2011. The link is apposite only insofar as her voice evinces many of the qualities we associate with great singing but she does not especially call her predecessor to mind. She does, however, have so many of her own gifts: chief amongst these are the ability to maintain vibrancy in the tone without it spreading, a control over colour and dynamics enabling her to reduce both the sound and the pulse of the voice to a mere whisper while nonetheless remaining steady and a special talent for inflecting text vividly. The latter is indeed a virtue particularly associated with Callas. Gheorghiu herself says in the interview on CD 8 that she views singing as an extension of acting; her pre-eminence as an interpreter of Puccini, Verdi, Massenet and verismo composers such as Cilea is surely due to her ability to recreate and embody their leading ladies with such empathy and pathos while effortlessly negotiating the technical challenges of singing those roles.

Gheorghiu has a particular gift for portraying Puccini’s women — the first Tosca was a Romanian soprano, Hariclea Darclée. As the interview confirms, Romania has its own, distinct and very rich vocal traditions and Gheorghiu is another in the line of great opera singers including Cotrubas, Zeani, Miricioiu, Cortez, Agache, Herlea and Munteanu. The excerpts from “Tosca” serve to emphasise the excellence of Gheorghiu’s assumption of the role in comparison to the unsuitability of Raimondi’s cavernous tone to Scarpia and the rather lachrymose quality of Alagna’s Cavaradossi. However, it is Mimí which is perhaps her finest Puccini role; the little seamstress’s artless outpourings ideally suit the contours of Gheorghiu’s voice.

The compilation here is drawn from complete recordings, mostly made in the company of tenor Roberto Alagna, her ex-husband and under the direction of Pappano or Plasson, her recital albums, and live recitals such as that at La Scala in March 2006. The selections are themed by disc; hence the first is entitles “Femmes fatales”. I think it a pity, however, that the set begins with excerpts from her “Carmen”, a role for which, however well she sings it, I do not feel she is ideally suited in comparison with her best assumptions. In truth, I prefer her as Micaëla and her Carmen is just a little too refined and regal; the earthiness isn’t there in the lower register even though much of the singing per se is beautiful and the requisite smokiness of timbre is present. Although her lower register is not the most effulgent, her relatively deep speaking voice evinces healthy registration. This is no tweety-bird and you may hear her exploit its lower reaches tellingly at key points in the heftier operatic roles such as Puccini’s “Manon Lescaut” but also even in songs such as “Se tu m’ami”. She is thus able to impersonate convincingly the transformation of Butterfly from the teenage ingénue of Act I to the tragic heroine of the last Act.

Yet she is also superb in the higher-lying roles requiring more agility, such as in Massenet’s “Manon”. Hers is a truly sparkling, enchanting, mercurial portrayal and it helps there has not been a more sheerly beautiful voice of this type since Kiri Te Kanawa in her prime.

It must be admitted, however, that her portrayals do not always by any means banish the memory of those by previous artists. For example, for all its beauty, I do not think her rendering of “Il sogno di Doretta” rivals Te Kanawa’s in its floated, ethereal quality; similarly, lovely as her “Depuis le jour” is, her compatriot Ileana Cotrubas’s Louise is more seductive. Nor is her account of Adriana Lecouvreur’s arias as heart-wrenching as those by Callas, Olivero or Scotto, who have more vehemence in their delivery. The same applies to her Medea aria which lacks the visceral intensity which Callas, Sass or Gencer brought to it. My personal preference is to hear Gheorghiu in higher, lighter, more brilliant roles such as Gounod’s Juliette or the classic bel canto operas where crystalline tone and purity of line prevail. Hence Handel’s Cleopatra and Mozart’s Countess are both superb and you could scarcely wish to hear a better sung “Casta diva” than her version here. When she puts pressure on her highest, loudest notes, as in “Sempre libera”, some edge and even wildness creep into her tone which can be dramatically apt but wearing on the ear.

I do not mean to say that she is unsuccessful in heavier roles but some, such as Carmen and Werther, lack the mezzo-ish tint which gives them extra depth. Her most celebrated stage receive good exposure here. Her Tosca is especially vivid, as is the superb Violetta which brought her international recognition. I was always disappointed that neither her tenor nor her baritone reach her exalted standard in the Solti recording. The excerpts from “La traviata” on the Verdi disc are very welcome, although two of the three arias are in fact not taken from that recording but from live performances in 2011 where some of her ease in the stratosphere has gone, as I remark above.

The Verdi and verismo discs both contain real gems. For me the best tracks are an unexpectedly poised and limpid Aida and the excerpts from “La bohème”.

In addition to triumphing in opera, she has also been a great ambassador for a wide range of genres of song, including baroque, traditional, devotional and art songs. Thus the final CD features French arias and mélodies and Romanian songs and carols, the latter probably being as new to most listeners as they were to me. Unfamiliar as they are and obviously being Romanian, that merely accentuates the pity of the absence of texts or even explanatory notes, which stop after “a glance at the opera roles”. Most of us will be in the dark regarding their content, beautifully and expressively though they are sung.

I think it a pity, too, that just as in his commentary and interview on the companion “José van Dam: Autograph” box set, Jon Tolansky does not take more care over his pronunciation of French and Italian; he mangles “Ah, fors’è lui”, “de Brétigny” and “ de Bouillon”, for example. Otherwise, he provides helpful guidance to the listener on the operatic arias and appreciative, if rather unchallenging, prompts to his interviewee, who rambles somewhat in her fluent and charmingly error-strewn English but provides some interesting insights along the way regarding her approach to her art.

The DVD is rather superfluous and something of a rag-bag, comprising clips of various performances, a conversation with Franco Zeffirelli and another interview illustrated with film clips with Gheorghiu in 2001 discussing the role of Norma and serving as a taster for her first solo album “Casta Diva”. The first clip is of a Dresden concert performance conducted by Sinopoli and with Alagna singing the “Madama Butterfly” duet which duplicates some of what we hear on CD 2 with Kaufmann but there are additional arias and it’s nice to see her acting. The video montage accompanying “Un bel dì” is plain weird.

The sheer breadth of Gheorghiu’s repertoire is certainly impressive and it is well covered in this comprehensive selection. It is unfortunate that so little documentation and certainly no texts are provided but the sound quality is excellent. Devotees of Gheorghiu’s art will not hesitate to acquire this tribute to her, especially given its bargain price.Ralph Moore